Crushing
by Twilight-freakie-geek
Summary: I OWN NOTHING. The story of Summer Iris, neighbor to the Stewarts for as long as they've been in Malibu. She's seen Jackson through everything, broken hearts and being fired. She just wasn't ready for what happened next.
1. Chapter 1

Crushing

**A/N: Okay, so I haven't ever done a HM fanfic before, and a thought came to me while listening to David Archuleta's single "Crush". I'm not telling now, but enjoy.**

**Summer POV**

I sighed as my alarm went off, my cell alarm, sending David Archuleta's "Crush" into the room. I groped for the phone and sat up. "It's too early…" I mumbled before another alarm burst into existence next door. The Stewarts.

Turning off the alarm, I walked sleepily to my window and looked out of it, waiting for Jackson to open his window, like every morning. We had been friends ever since he had moved in a few years back. I had been there through his many girlfriends and breakups, through getting fired by Rico and his relationship with Hannah Montana.

Miley's window opened first and the sound of the Jonas Brothers gently carried over. Her curly brown head popped out and looked over. "Hey Summer. Waiting for Jackson again?" she asked, implying more than I wanted in her tone.

Blushing furiously, I shook my head, "No," I called back all too quickly and Miley laughed.

"Uh-huh. Listen, Summer, Jackson isn't interested in your type." She shrugged. Rolling my eyes, I backed out of my window and slammed the little tiny door-like frames and threw myself onto my bed.

There went my morning.

Trudging down the stairs, I put on my best pout and entered the kitchen. "Mom, are we going to the record company today? You said you made an appointment."

My mom nodded as she sipped her coffee. "Yes, this afternoon, but you'll have to get someone else to take you, I have an interview for the Dynamo's 'Where are they now?' piece."

Ah, the one-hit wonder Dynamo's. It made me roll my eyes with the very name. But only one name hit my mind. _Jackson Stewart._

Running up the stairs again, I was beaming. As I entered my room again, I closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. My eyes strayed to a cute little number I had been saving for my trip up to L.A. A rocker tee and my best jeans, which was it…aside from one thing…

The wig.

Oh yes, the dark brown wig that made me look nothing like who I was, in that I would look like a girl with elbow-length dark brown hair, perfectly straight. As opposed to my auburn loose spirals, which inspired my name, Summer. My mom hated the thought of her daughter having to drop high school for touring, and had insisted on me taking on a stage identity.

I changed quickly and pulled back my hair into a tight bun before putting on the tight swim-cap like thing that would make sure none of my hair slipped out. I delicately put on the wig and applied make-up to make my skin all over seem pale and even disguise my freckles.

_She's the prom queen, I'm in the marching band, she's a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands. She gets the top bunk, I'm sleeping on the…_

I flipped open my phone. "Hey Jackson. I need a favor."

"Sure, Sums, what is it?" His voice answered on the other end.

"I need a ride to L.A. I have an appointment with the record company, and I've…spruced up for it."

Jackson made a grunt and I could almost hear him roll his eyes. I huffed. "Jackson? Can I get you out of working at Rico's today?"

"I'm actually at Rico's right now, Summer."

I rolled my eyes, "Give the phone to the brat."

"Rico here, what does Jackson's spicy friend want?"

"Listen, I have a special interview with Die Hard Records today and I need Jackson to drive me to L.A. I'll work no charge next weekend. Friday night."

"Rico like," Rico said thoughtfully. "All right, Spring,"

"Summer," I corrected.

"Whatever, see you Friday night, Jackson's free."

I heard the phone be passed back. "Thanks a ton, Summer."

"No problem. See you at my house in five?"

"Ch-yeah!" Jackson crooned and the line went dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Crushing

Crushing

When a knock came at my door, I bounded down the stairs and threw aside the door to find Miley standing there instead. "Oh, hey, Miley."

"Summer? Wow," She sounded genuinely surprised, like I had come out with a third eye or on the arm of Jake Ryan.

"No, I'm her cousin, Ember." I lied flawlessly, faking confusion. "She called Jackson up saying that she had the appointment, but it was mine. I thought Jackson was driving me up to L.A."

"About that…Some swimsuit model walked down the beach on his way up, and..well, yeah." she rolled her eyes. "So my dad offered to take you instead, I'm going to a Hannah Montana CD signing anyway, trying to get an autograph for Oliver, stuff like that." I looked past her at the long black limo in front of my house.

My face fell slightly as I shrugged and walked past Miley, thinking of my being cheated out of a car ride with Jackson. "Yeah, classic Jackson, I...think." I grumbled, trying to lie. "Hey, Mr. Stewart." I said politely, slipping into the seat across from him, eyes wide.

"Why don't you take a nap, um"—he trailed off, not knowing who I was.

"Ember," I supplied quietly. "Me and Summer both have her mom's voice, or my great-grandmother's I can't remember." I said with a laugh. Thank goodness Mr. Stewart and Miley didn't know my family very well. "And it is a long ride to LA, I guess."

My eyes opened groggily as the door opened and shut. Miley was being dropped off, I guessed. "Mr. Stewart? Are we almost there?"

"Just about. You got your demo CD?" He asked in his heavy Tennessee accent.

I nodded and yawned. "I owe you a million, Robbie Ray Stewart."

Curling my legs up to my chest, I looked at my shoes. So many things were going to change if I got signed, starting with the shoes. Then my confidence, probably, then the concerts, then an extended vacation when I had to go on my first tour. Oy.

Humming one of my songs to myself, my fingers lightly swirled around the glass of the window.

"Are you nervous, Ember?"

I nodded as the melody switched to a different song, melancholy and slow.

"This is big."

I nodded again and closed my eyes.

"Maybe one of the biggest things you've ever done, just think, if you don't make this…"

"Robbie Ray!" I cut him off, putting my hands over my ears. "Please stop, you're not helping."

"Just joking, Ember, you'll be fine, knock 'em dead, we're here."

I gasped and fell out of the car in my haste to get out. Looking up, I saw a giant picture of Mikayla hanging in the lobby. This must have been her "people".

Letting out a deep breath, I walked through the revolving door, going around about ten times before getting out on the wrong side and going through again, getting out correctly.

Gulping, I walked up to the front desk. "Excuse me, I have an appointment. Ember?"

"Last name?"

"Crispin."

"Yes, go right up, top floor."

Exhaling I proceeded to the elevator and pressed the "UP" button. Tapping my foot, I started humming to myself. When the elevator arrived, I stepped and pressed the button for the top floor. The small room was empty as it ascended. Looking around, I pressed a key on my phone and sang along with the Jonas Brothers.

"_I'm slipping into the lava_

_And I'm trying to keep from going under_

_Baby you turn the temperature hotter_

_Cause I'm burning up, burning up_

_For you baby._"

The doors opened without my notice as I continued singing. A small giggled finally snapped me back to reality.

"How cute, a new little starlet coming to try for the big time," Mikayla said sweetly.

I closed my phone while clearing my throat. "Uh, yeah, sorta. Hey, I love your music!" I lied, "Your song, 'If Cupid had a Heart', gives me chills! Good chills, not the creepy chills you get in horror movies." I said, putting my hands up in defense as I walked by.

"Hey! What's your name?"

"Uh," I turned around for a moment. "Oh! My name! Su—Ember!"

"Well, nice to meet you Ember."

"Well, do you like it?" I asked the head of Die Hard anxiously as he pressed 'pause'.

He nodded. "Yes, and your agent said you would like tours to only be in the summer?"

"Yes, sir, that's correct."

"I only have one problem with your music, Ember."

My eyes bugged out. "And what's that?"

"It sounds like Hannah Montana."

"What's wrong with Hannah Montana?"

"Mikayla hates her, and I can't risk loosing our biggest hit."

My face turned to outrage. "Listen, the thing about Mikayla is that her music matches the same rhythmical quality as Miss Montana's, she only hates that their music is similar. I'm sorry, but if you think that I'm going to change my sound, the deal is off. I'll go to Hannah Montana's record company. They have a range of sound that has a widespread appeal. I might be better off there…"

"No! I'm not asking you to change your sound, Ember! Not at all, not at all!" He jumped up and fetched a folder with ten pages in it. Could that be a contract?

"Um, sir, I need my agent to look over it, if you don't mind."

"I didn't want to lose the possible next teen superstar, I e-mailed a copy to her, she approved moments ago and is coming in now to make sure it's all good to go."

Wow, this guy didn't waste time.

I waited for about ten minutes while Mindy Clears took time to get to the office. By that time the pen was in my hand and I was getting nervous.

"Ember, dah-ling!" Mindy crooned as she swept through the door. "Air kiss!"

Rolling my eyes, I participated in the old routine of kissing an invisible person on each cheek while Mindy did the same.

"Hello, Miss Clears. May I sign now?"

"Go on, do it! I'm so glad, my little pop sensation signing her first contract!"

I wanted to gag as my hand gently flew over the paper, where a then black line sentenced me to my new way of life.

"There we go! All settled! We'll need you back here in a few weeks to start recording your first song, but for now, we'll let you sing with some other stars…and if you promise not to leak this to the press or to Mikayla, I'll arrange a performance with Hannah next Friday at the Do-Whop for Dolphins charity event. We'll have the limo pick you up, don't worry." Mindy and Robinson seemed to talk at the same time, on the same wavelength of mind, it creeped me out.

"Um, that's great. But…can I go…?"

"Of course, Robinson and I will be planning." Mindy waved me off.

"Ooookaaay…." I trailed off as I backed out of the office and pulled my cell phone out. I dialed Mr. Stewart's phone number and held it up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Stewart, do you have time to pick me up or send a cab or something? I need to get home…dinner, stuff like that."

"Of course. Miley just got in from a Hannah Montana CD signing, so we'll be right around."

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana, if I did, I wouldn't be here, would I? Nor do I own "Burnin' Up".**


End file.
